The Color of Rust
by RavenHeart101
Summary: A series of one shots about a world where Neal Caffrey lived next door to the Burke's his whole life that is NOT in chronological order.
1. Chapter 1

The Color of Rust

By: RavenHeart101

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: A series of one shots about a world where Neal Caffery lived next door to the Burke's his whole life that is NOT in chronological order.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, family, friendship, OC's, possible slash.

A: N – It's been bugging me.

* * *

According to the law, Peter wasn't legally a parent and neither was Elizabeth. But Neal had been coming to their house after school since he had started school and staying there until long after dinner since he was ten so Peter sometimes really felt like he was a parent. Peter helped Neal with homework and when the kid broke his arm that one time it was Peter and Elizabeth that brought him to the hospital. When they took that family vacation out to Vermont they took Neal with them.

It was just according to the law that they weren't a family.

According to the law, in fact, Neal's family lived right next door. Peter had only stepped into the house a handful of times, and he had it on good authority that Rebecca Caffrey wasn't the best mother around. One of the times Peter had to set foot inside was to call an ambulance because she had overdosed. He still wasn't sure why Neal was still living with her, but he wasn't exactly unhappy that the kid hadn't gone into foster care.

As it was, Neal was a difficult enough child without adding that into the mix, and he loved his mother very much even if there wasn't much of a mother left to love. Peter didn't know what happened on the days before Peter and Elizabeth moved in, and he didn't doubt that Rebecca loved Neal on a very primal level. But Peter wasn't sure how much love the woman could give, especially to someone who needed so much of it.

Neal wore his heart on his sleeve, even though it wasn't obvious that he did. Peter still remembered Neal's reaction when his first girlfriend broke up with him, and Peter definitely remembered what Kate's suicide had done to the poor boy. Peter didn't like to think of those days.

But Neal was better now. He was doing a lot better. He was doing good in school – great in school actually – and he had made some friends aside from that odd boy, Mozzie.

Peter was actually, dare he say it, proud.

But he knew there would be bad days. He knew he couldn't expect good days and smiles all the time. Yet, Peter did. He was surprised, to say the least, when he came home from work that day to Elizabeth standing in the kitchen with a trembling hand to her lips and a torn up piece of paper in absolute _shards_ on the floor.

Peter knew what the paper was just by looking at the corner of it. How could he not? Neal had only been slaving over the thing for two months. He had around forty drafts until he had finished one that he was proud enough with to turn it in. It was to be his piece for a competitive art final the school was hosting that would end in an art show and a scholarship for classes over at the Art Institute.

Peter figured he knew enough about art from working with White Collar (and Neal being a huge art buff and Elizabeth being just a miniscule step down from him) to know that it was a really good piece. It was magnificent, even, and Peter had been willing to bet anything that Neal would have won that scholarship.

Which was why he was so confused upon walking into that sight that Thursday evening. "El, hon, what happened? Are you okay?" He asked slowly and stepped over the pieces to place his bag on the table.

His wife didn't look at him, though, and her lower lip trembled and her eyes shinned. It took her a long while to answer, and she bent down to gather the pieces as she did. "I'm fine, Peter." Her shaking voice told him differently, but Peter didn't press. He knew she would say more if she wanted to.

"Where's Neal?" He picked up a piece of paper before he could step on it, gently turning it over and over in his hands.

"He's outside." Elizabeth took the piece from his hand and arranged them into a neat little pile before collapsing into one of the chairs. Peter looked up and, indeed, there Neal was, staring almost wordlessly at the ground beneath his feet with his arms crossed over his chest tightly.

"What happened, El?" Peter asked again.

"It wasn't his fault." She muttered into the palms of her hands and her shoulders shook for a moment before she regained herself. She sat up a little bit straighter and ran a hand through her hair, clasping it at the top of her head for a moment and plastering on a smile for the world to see. "I'm going to go have a word with his mother."

Elizabeth and Rebecca always had words for each other. Always. There was never a time when they didn't. If Neal was upset chances were Elizabeth would go have a word with Rebecca to get the woman to fix things. As it was, Neal had a room at the Burke's house for the times it didn't work out, or for when he didn't want to go home. Most of the time Neal felt like a member of the household and Peter had caught himself for five years in a row now accidentally adding Neal to a member of the house on the tax forms.

Elizabeth walked by and patted his shoulder, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips before walking out, wiping at her cheeks as she did so. It was only then that Peter noticed the spilled coffee mug and the broken water glass on the counter. Like someone had shoved them across the surface in anger.

Neal had a lot of anger, and sometimes he was prone to act on it. It used to be a problem when he was younger that would result in him throwing things but Neal had gotten that under control for the most part. Today must have been a spectacularly horrible day for him to act out like this.

Peter resigned himself to be the one to talk to him. He was usually good with dealing with Neal's emotions, and Peter prayed the boy wouldn't start crying. Not just because Peter hated seeing him cry, but because Peter was hopeless at comforting people when they cried. More so with men than women. He at least knew how to deal with Elizabeth if she started. And he had learned, for the most part, how to deal with Neal, but still it sent a chill through his very being to see the tears glittering in the blue eyes.

Neal looked a lot like Elizabeth, oddly enough, but then again Elizabeth and Rebecca could be sisters (or possibly cousins) in their looks. His eyes were a shade darker and his hair was curlier but they looked enough alike that they were constantly mistaken for being family. Not that either of them bothered to correct the people that mistook them. Elizabeth had been added to Neal's emergency contact list long before Peter was and everyone at Neal's school's assumed that they were his aunt and uncle.

Neal was pacing but he stopped when he heard the door shut behind Peter. "Hey kiddo." Peter called out as not to startle him, though startling Neal was a difficult thing to do.

"Hey Peter." His voice didn't sound particularly rough, but Peter knew that Neal was a fantastic actor when he wanted to be.

"What's with the mess inside?" Peter was never one to dance around things, he always had to jump straight to the point.

Usually it worked and Neal would just spill. Not today apparently. "I'm sorry." Neal winced but didn't turn to look at him, standing with his back to Peter and looking out over the top of the hedges. "Can you tell Elizabeth I'm sorry and I'll clean it up in a few?"

Peter frowned. "No can do, kid. She's gone to talk with your mom." Sometimes it felt like Rebecca wasn't Neal's mom and the only way Peter could remind himself that Neal wasn't theirs was by repeating the words.

Neal flinched at the words. "Mom's not home." Sometimes Neal stumbled over the word "mom" in reference to Rebecca. Peter told himself not to pay attention to those times.

"Neal…" Peter paused and sighed. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid while he could. "What happened?"

He didn't hear anything but the wind for a long moment before Neal took in a shuddering breath and answered. "It wasn't good enough."

He shrugged casually as though that was a good enough answer. If he wasn't going to be outraged Peter surly would be. "_What_?" Because that drawing – that piece that Neal had done was spectacular. It was definitely above all the other shit the other students would spit out. And Peter wasn't just saying that as a fathe-neighbor. He was saying it out of complete and honest belief.

Neal laughed a little and his shoulders shook. "Actually, it was… _too_ good."

"Too good?"

Neal nodded. "Yep. They didn't… They wouldn't put it in."

"Because… it was too good?"

"Because they think I stole it."

"Did you?" Neal used to have a habit of stealing things and Peter had seen his notebooks and had brought him to the art museum a number of times. He knew the kid liked to draw things that had already been done. He had a whole pile of sketchbooks dedicated to it. Monet, Degas, Van Gogh, and many more. But the difference was that Neal knew those weren't originally his and he wasn't slapping his name on them. It was a habit. One that would have scared Peter if he hadn't drilled it into the kid at a young age how bad it was to take credit for something that wasn't his own (originally, because Neal had needed him to make that distinction when he was five and sometimes he still needed the reminder). But he was better now. He was better.

"Why do you always ask me that?!" His voice took on an annoyed edge – a hurt edge, actually.

Peter was a bit startled to hear it. Neal knew better. He knew Peter didn't actually think he did.

But he had to be sure, didn't he? Just in case. "Neal-"

"No I didn't copy it! You saw me-!"

"I know, Neal. I'm sorry for doubting you." Peter placated and walked so he was standing in front of him. But Neal just turned away, but not fast enough for Peter to miss the tears, nor the startling black and blue on his chin.

Peter grabbed at his chin and turned his face back towards him, gently. "What _happened_, Neal?"

Neal didn't just get into fights. Neal wasn't a fan of violence. "I ran into Ron's fist." Ron. It was always Ron. Ron, Rebecca's terrible on again and off again boyfriend. He despised Neal and Neal despised him. If Peter had any evidence that Ron was more than an asshole he would have called the police on the guy more than the five times he already had. He would have arrested him himself.

"That's not what I asked."

Neal made a noise and ripped his face from Peter's grip turning away from him and hunching his shoulders. The kid was clearly overwhelmed. Clearly frustrated.

And then Peter remembered what he said before he had seen the bruise and he stiffened. "They think you _stole_ your piece?"

Neal's answer was to kick, hard, at the wood of Satchimo's dog house. The wood didn't break or splinter but Peter was sure Neal's foot stung from where he had kicked. Peter winced for him.

He was thrown off guard, however, when Neal suddenly clutched around his stomach and kicked again, tripping over his own feet and catching himself on the wood. It seemed like it was too much for him, just then, and he slid forward, barely kneeling into the mud and… crying.

"Shit." Peter swore to himself and dropped down next to him, not caring about the stains that were bound to show up because of it. Neal tried to shrug him off, but he stopped when Peter grabbed his arms and held him tight. Neal was still facing away from him, but the tears were hard and heart breaking.

He had gotten so angry, Peter supposed, that he couldn't find any other way to let it out without hurting someone else.

Elizabeth did it sometimes, if she had a particularly bad day at the office. She would just start crying.

But it was different with Elizabeth then it was with Neal. Neal wasn't just angry, he wasn't just frustrated. He was hurt. And he had every right to be.

He had slaved over that piece of work, Peter had seen it, he had poured his heart and soul into that piece of paper until there was nothing left to give. And he was told that it was too good. Too good. Whatever that meant.

Peter wanted to have a word with the teacher but he trusted Elizabeth to fix that. He knew it was unfair. He knew Neal had been trying so hard this past year to fix himself. He knew it was a lot to ask from the kid.

And Peter felt his agony too. He felt his sorrow and his pain and Peter just held him tight.

"I'm trying, Dad. I'm trying so hard."

"I know." Peter could count the number of times Neal called him 'dad' on one hand, and each time it made his heart jump into his throat. He was only Dad when Neal didn't know how to deal with things. He was Dad when Neal was hurting. He was Dad when Neal needed Dad the most.

He may not legally be Neal's parent, but that didn't stop him from being his Dad.

* * *

A: N – Want more from the universe? Idk what will happen, honestly. Enjoy it for what it is?


	2. Chapter 2

The Color of Rust

By: RavenHeart101

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: A series of one shots about a world where Neal Caffery lived next door to the Burke's his whole life that is NOT in chronological order.

A: N – Takes place when Neal is 6. He's lived next door to the Burkes for around two years.

* * *

Elizabeth was never a fan of Rebecca Caffrey. She didn't like the way the woman talked, for one, and she really didn't like the way the woman looked. Elizabeth wasn't a person who judged others on looks (or she tried not to be), but Rebecca sure didn't take care of herself in the looks department. Elizabeth could have let the ratty hair and blotchy skin slide, though, if it wasn't for the way the woman treated her son.

There was a care from Rebecca when it came to Neal, Elizabeth knew better than to get in the way between a mother and her child. But sometimes… well sometimes Elizabeth was pretty sure Neal was more of the parent than Rebecca was. Neal cleaned up after her and made sure the house was in some sort of order. He brought himself to school and sometimes he even made his own meals. He dragged her out of bed each day to take a shower and sometimes Elizabeth had heard stories from the little boy about how he had brushed his mother's hair (as Elizabeth was brushing his own because the curls on that boy's head were a mess sometimes).

But this… Elizabeth could not let this slide.

It was the first time Neal had won anything and the little boy was bursting with excitement. His little legs kicked out from under the island in Elizabeth's kitchen and he was nibbling on the corner of a cookie and doing his math homework as best he could. Satchimo was laying out under his feet, his head resting on his paws and his eyes mournfully staring at the waning day outside. Elizabeth had taken him out for a walk when they picked Neal up from the bus stop but it seemed the young dog just wanted more. Maybe she would let him out in the yard later, he had grown attached to Neal anyway and there was no way he was moving if Neal wasn't.

Elizabeth wished, not for the first time that day, that Peter was home so she could leave Neal to go have a word with Rebecca. But from the little boy's mouth Elizabeth had learned that Rebecca wasn't going to be home until very late. Rebecca hadn't even looked for a babysitter.

Elizabeth was silently fuming and she hoped Peter wouldn't mind their guest for the night. Or the fact that Neal wanted nothing more than to visit the school for the art show tonight, since his piece (that he won _first place for, Ellie!_) was being put on the "biggest display ever"! She couldn't say no to those eyes and that tone of voice even if she wanted to. Neal wanted his mother to be there, he had said so himself, but he had fully prepared himself to not be able to go. He hadn't asked Elizabeth to bring him, he hadn't even uttered the words, but Elizabeth could tell.

She was pretty sure a parent was supposed to be able to tell these sorts of things. Neal had been so nervous about submitting his art work earlier that week and Elizabeth had baked him cookies to make it better but nothing had seemed to calm the little boy down.

But here he was. Excited rather than nervous because Elizabeth had said they could go to his own art show at his elementary school. Something like this… it shouldn't be a rarity to a child his age. It should be normal and something to be expected.

Neal deserved better than Rebecca.

That was rude, she told herself, but that didn't stop her from believing it.

"Hey hon," Elizabeth answered her phone with a smile over at Neal as the little boy looked up at her in question. He smiled back, his little pink tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated and counted out the numbers on his fingers.

"Hey Elle." Peter answered and Elizabeth could hear the smile in his voice as well. Must be a good day in the White Collar Division. "I'm thinking of calling it an early day today, you up for lunch?"

"I'm always up for lunch." She assured, a small burst of excitement of her own in her stomach. "You want to go out for lunch, Neal?" She asked the boy as a way of telling Peter he was there.

Peter should have known anyway, Elizabeth had picked Neal up after school since he had started a year ago. And it had been a half day today. "Where are we goin'?" Neal still had the habit of not ending his "ing"s when he talked and quickly scribbled down a number before erasing it and starting again.

"Well I don't know little man." Elizabeth answered with a small laugh. "Peter can tell us when he gets home, how about that?"

Neal's eyes lit up at the mention of his favorite man. Elizabeth wasn't sure if Peter knew how much the little boy loved him but she was absolutely sure the hero worship was mutual. "Peter's comin'!" He bounced up and down in his seat as he said it and Elizabeth knew her husband would have to come once he heard that.

"I'll be home in twenty, hon." Peter answered and they hung up after saying their goodbyes. Elizabeth sat down in front of Neal, taking in the little boy for all that he was. Curly black hair that fell into his eyes. His eyes bright blue and sparkling and his cheeks red from happiness. His Superman t-shirt and blue jeans that fell over Batman sneakers. He was an almost typical boy, if it wasn't for his fascination with all things artistic. Elizabeth knew he had been getting teased because of it in school, but she knew Neal hadn't taken any of it to heart.

The boy was spectacularly good at ignoring everything around him if he wanted to.

Suddenly an idea struck Elizabeth and she smiled to herself victoriously at the thought. "Do you want to go to McDonald's, Neal?"

"What's McDonal's?" He asked curiously with a look up at her through his eyelashes.

Neal was a beautiful child and sometimes Elizabeth really wished he was hers.

Moments like these, however, cemented her hatred of Rebecca Caffrey more than almost anything else. What child hadn't been to McDonalds? "It's a restaurant, baby." The term of endearment slipped out but Neal didn't try to correct her, even though Elizabeth flushed a bit at the words. There was nothing to stop Rebecca from leaving with Neal, and the woman had said so herself quite a few times, if she saw that Elizabeth and Peter were getting "too close" to her little boy.

"Oh." Neal shrugged. "Sure."

Most kids would have been almost vibrating with joy and excitement at the prospect, but Neal, having never been before, was simply carrying on as though everything was normal. In fact, the little boy didn't even seem excited until Peter and Elizabeth had pulled into the brightly colored restaurant's parking lot. Peter had grumbled the whole way, muttering something about the place being a mess of fat and grease before shutting up at Elizabeth's look. He didn't grumble anymore, however, when he saw Neal's awed face. There was the play-place, kids yelling and running and chasing after one another and Neal pressed himself closer to Elizabeth's legs when he saw it, as though he were afraid of joining. He was a naturally shy child, Elizabeth reminded herself as they ordered.

But he started to become more animated the more time they spent there, his hand clutched in Peter's larger one and his head resting against the older man's leg as they waited for their food. Elizabeth didn't miss the woman at the front counter cooing at him or the looks the managers were sending their way when Peter tickled his neck to get him to laugh.

The two of them looked like father and son, Elizabeth decided, as she brought over the tray to the table Neal had picked out. Peter had picked him up to help him onto the seat and Neal was now swinging in legs happily again and munching on the tip of his straw. "How was work, hon?" Elizabeth asked before sliding into her own seat, placing Neal's bright red Happy Meal box in front of him.

The little boy cautiously dug in, taking a tiny bite from his cheeseburger as though unsure if he would like it. Elizabeth knew he had had cheeseburgers before – he had tried them when Peter had a cookout for the Forth of July the year before and had liked them. He had also grown a liking to Reese and their peculiar relationship was one of Elizabeth's favorites. "A nice and easy day for once." Peter took a bite of his own sandwich and Neal looked up at him in question.

Neal was incredibly fascinated with Peter's job. Elizabeth was sure it had something to do with Peter being a police officer and Neal's actual father having been one himself before something happened that Rebecca wouldn't speak of. Elizabeth knew Peter had looked into it and she was pretty sure he had found out, but she had asked him if it was bad and the look on his face when he had said yes was enough to convince Elizabeth that she didn't want to know.

"I won the art com'tition!" Neal said excitedly and bit into his little bag of apple slices.

"Really? That's great, bud." Peter ruffled his hair and promised, when Neal asked, that they could go to the art show later that night.

Neal was a bundle of nervous energy after that. He was excited, he said, but his excitement was mixing with the butterflies in his tummy and was making him feel sick. So he didn't finish his Happy Meal, but he had eaten a great deal of it, and was clutching his toy as tight as he was clutching Peter's hand as they walked into the school. Elizabeth had her camera ready, for sure, and she laughed at Peter's face when he saw all the kids walking with parents.

They were stopped by Neal's teacher and talked a bit. Elizabeth made sure to keep an eye on the six year old as he ran up to what looked to be a fourteen year old boy and started talking to him excitedly. The ten year old Elizabeth knew in passing as Benjamin Cole, the older brother to one of the girls in Neal's class, Alicia, and the boy had walked them home a few times when Neal had stayed over their house after school. Elizabeth always felt guilty when she couldn't watch after him but Mrs. Cole sure stepped up when Elizabeth couldn't. It was a plus that Benjamin Cole didn't seem like the kind of teenager to want to do anything else but spend time with a kid.

"Ellie, Ellie, look!" Neal grabbed her hand and tugged her forward to the artwork placed in the spot of honor. It was a gorgeous piece, filled with flowers and sunshine and a darkened corner where there sat a bear. But the bear, while being in the darkened corner, was decorating his cave with the bright flowers and lights was streaming in. It was a crude painting, obviously done by someone with skill but with little practice or expertise. A craft that needed to be nurtured into growth. Elizabeth was floored. Especially when she saw the neat words in the corner proclaiming that the art belonged to a _Mister Neal Caffrey in Miss Parson's Kindergarten Day Class. _

Elizabeth leaned down and picked the little boy up, resting him on her hip and a wide smile on her face. "This is gorgeous, Neal." She tickled his side and he laughed, resting his head on her shoulder. "What does it mean?"

Peter came up behind them, speechless and his eyes flitting back and forth from the boy in Elizabeth's arms to the painting. "It doesn't have to mean anything." Peter assured the boy when he pursed his lips and tilted his head as though to figure it out himself.

"It means," Neal trailed off on the last syllable, drawing it out long.

"It means there can be light with the dark, yeah?" Elizabeth startled at the voice next to her. Standing beside her was Benjamin, looking at Neal over Elizabeth's shoulder with a smile.

"If you're sad you can a'ways be happy!" Neal explained happily and nodded at the other boy before looking at Peter and Elizabeth. "Like I was sad an' then I was ha'py cuz I met you an' Pet'r!"

Elizabeth held the boy closer and wished she didn't have to drop him off to go to Rebecca later that night.

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A: N – The reviews stunned me. Like whoa! But thank you so much guys! I'm glad you like it so far.


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